


head in the clouds, but my gravity's centered

by InkBlotAngel



Series: time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel
Genre: Crack?, Empath!May, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Lemons, NOT the Deke Shaw variety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25361632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkBlotAngel/pseuds/InkBlotAngel
Summary: It was one thing to have a fleeting touch of covetousness from General Stoner when they shook hands in ‘76—at least his attraction had been directed at her. But picking up on the libidos of her two friends, who didn’t know she was basically witnessing themhaving sex?Well, shit.A tag to 7.08 about May admitting to Yo-Yo she picked up on her and Mack's... um, reunion.
Relationships: Alphonso "Mack" Mackenzie/Yo Yo Rodriguez
Series: time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790437
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	head in the clouds, but my gravity's centered

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [It wasnt all bad](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25343074) by [anissa_qiaolian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anissa_qiaolian/pseuds/anissa_qiaolian). 



> There’s not much to say about this except I’m trash, and also because *stage whispers* [Ming made me do it](https://twitter.com/JamieCinematics/status/1283584706647293952).
> 
> It's also worth noting that anissa_qiaolian wrote a similar fic, which actually inspired me to take a different approach for this fic because I was so close to writing the same thing, ha. I've tagged it accordingly, so you can check it out if you're interested.
> 
> Title from ‘Sweater Weather’ by The Neighbourhood.

For once, the depressing metal hallways of the Lighthouse were a comforting sight to see. Not that Melinda May can actually _feel_ it, though there was something about being back here that was making her feel more like her usual self.

The mystical emptiness—her constant companion since leaving the Spirit Realm—seemed to be lingering at the edges of her periphery, never quite gone but allowing her some space.

There was a fleeting moment of overwhelming relief when she stepped into Command and saw Yo-Yo wrapped up in Mack’s embrace, her feet dangling off the ground. Then, an uncharacteristic lightheartedness—for her, anyway—as she stood next to Deke, offering a smile that was not really hers to the Coulson on the screen. Nervous but excited energy as she followed Deke into the circle that formed, introducing herself to The Deke Squad, surprised that no one was offended when she declined to shake their hands; Deke must’ve caught them up on everything.

All these emotions, yet without contact. Her abilities seem to be evolving, picking up the energy in the room by sheer proximity, but without fully understanding these new nuances, she worries about the tactical disadvantages they might bring. She does _not_ need another anxiety attack when the team is relying on her, or the world for that matter.

May checks the S.H.I.E.L.D.-issued watch on her left wrist. No major changes except for the hours lapsed since Simmons gave it to her earlier: 27 days left until they’re due to rendezvous back on the Zephyr.

She has time to figure it out.

* * *

For once, May indulges herself with a long-overdue break. Not that she was completely relaxed—all day long she was on edge and ready to leave at a moment's notice in case the watch reflects an unexpected time jump. She has no desire to stay in the '80s longer than expected, and that includes having gone through it the first time around.

But it _was_ nice to not have anything urgent to take care of. She woke up in what was technically her own bed, though the sheets were the S.H.I.E.L.D.-standard ones, thin and stiff compared to the buttery-smooth bamboo fiber beddings she splurged on back in their present time. The pillows were a little too soft for her liking, but they didn’t give her a crick in her neck, so there was nothing to complain about.

She allowed herself a few more minutes under the covers and savored the warmth, before getting up to change into her workout clothes. There had been no time for tai chi lately, and while it didn’t really make a difference to her newfound emotional state (or lack thereof), she could feel her body longing for a great workout.

Last night's whiskey—and May takes a moment to mentally thank Deke for actually getting the good stuff even if it wasn’t Haig—slowed down her movements throughout the rest of the day. She barely made a dent in exploring her powers’ fresh dynamics, but not for lack of trying. She drifted in and out of rooms, using the excuse of taking over Mack’s responsibilities while he spent time with Yo-Yo to expose herself to a varied number of people, but nothing seemed consistent. There are more questions than answers, leaving her confused but only in the mental sense.

She’s walking back towards her bunk and wondering how to spend the rest of her free time this evening when she suddenly feels a swell of lust crashing into her whole body. It was so unexpected and overpowering that she had to stagger over to the nearest wall to keep herself from falling over.

_Oh, no_. Mentally cursing the gods in at least six different languages, May inhales deeply in an attempt to regulate her now-rapid breathing and purses her lips tightly to make sure she doesn’t make a sound.

She _hates_ this, she really does—feelings were not her thing to begin with, but at least she had them in control before, knew how to deal with them behind closed doors or in front of the few people she trusted before putting on a face for the world.

Then, the realization hits her: She’s unable to feel things _on her own_.

Her eyes take in her immediate surroundings, noting every detail with the sharpness of a spy, including the security cameras at each end of the hallway. She had already reached the Lighthouse’s suite of rooms, her own just around the corner, in fact.

Which could only mean…

She almost didn’t want to look up and read the plaque next to the door just a few steps ahead of her, but she forces herself to, already knowing what she was going to find there: Rodriguez, E.

Yo-Yo.

Mack.

_Shit_.

It was one thing to have a fleeting touch of covetousness from General Stoner when they shook hands in ‘76—at least his attraction had been directed at her. But picking up on the libidos of her two friends, who didn’t know she was basically witnessing them having sex?

_Shit_.

May barely restrains a gasp as she’s hit with another rush of desire, this time stronger and more urgent. Against her will, her eyes flutter close briefly as she rides out the wave, a faint flush blooming on porcelain cheeks as arousal spread traitorously all over her body. She could feel herself getting wet, her nipples tightening underneath the sensible cotton bra she had chosen today.

She’s glad she can’t see through walls or read people’s minds—this was terrible enough already, if not even more intrusive to be so attuned to their intimacy. Prying her eyes open, she casts another furtive glance around the hallway and listens carefully for signs of other people within the vicinity, sighing with relief when she confirms it’s only her for the moment.

She should get out of here and continue making her way to her room. The sooner she was further away from Mack and Yo-Yo, the faster she could devoid herself of their collective desire. If it lingered for a bit longer, at least she would be in the privacy of her own bunk to take care of herself.

She really should.

If not for the fact that after taking just two steps, May is hit with pleasure again, nearly blinding in its intensity that it almost made her forget where she is. A moan catches in the back of her throat as she tenses for a second, then her shoulders tremble, her knees shaking a little.

The world spins madly on, and all she could think of was the pulsing heat down her center clenching on emptiness, the telltale coils of desire unfurling in the pit of her belly. Her hands fly to cover her mouth as she whimpers softly, her knuckles turning white as she presses hard to keep quiet and also to prevent her hands from wandering to places inappropriate for the middle of a public hallway monitored by security cameras.

It goes on for a few more seconds, before the pleasure breaks into a brief respite of relief, then evolving into a gentle satisfaction that was all too familiar to her, if not a feeling that she hasn’t had in a while. Not since the endless days of Tahiti, a haze of bright blue waters and lush tropical greens, her and Phil in their own paradise. Not since the infinite nights of Hawaii, a spectacle of the orange of sunsets and the purple of early dawns, Andrew by her side.

May can take care of things, that much she knew—she was insatiable on her own and knew her body well enough to be attuned to her sexual needs. The two greatest loves of her life added fuel to the fire she kept burning, but it was never the same having to fan the flames herself.

So, no, it wasn’t going to be a problem if things have to come to that after... this.

(May _really_ doesn’t want to think who she just came with.)

She takes a moment to get her bearings together, her labored breathing the only sound in the hallway. She eyes the security cameras again and makes a quick decision for the first thing tomorrow morning: Since the Lighthouse was legally deserted with only a handful of newly-minted agents on base, she already knew no one was monitoring the feeds. Still, it won’t hurt to remove a couple of seconds from the footage and make it look like she went straight to her room.

Yo-Yo and Mack seem to be done or are at least taking a breather for now—May’s definitely not sticking around for _that_ —if the calmness washing over her is anything to go by. _Guess there’s no need to put a finger on things_ , she muses with a self-satisfied smirk, picking up her pace again and finally reaching her room without further incident.

The lust, and all other remnants of Mack and Yo-Yo’s reunion fade as she gets ready for bed, changing into fresh clothes—not pajamas, in case they need to fly out in the night—then collapsing into bed and burying her face in one of the still-too-soft pillows.

She should be feeling as guilty as her mind is chastising her at the moment, but everything happened so fast she barely had time to comprehend things. Not to mention, she’s literally unable to feel guilt even if she wanted to. Instead, she hardens her resolve to control her abilities better from here onwards.

For now, though, and for once, May decides to take it easy on herself for things that have already happened and were beyond her control.

Well, it wasn’t _all_ bad.

**END.**


End file.
